


People Watching

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 14:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19870825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Prompto likes to people watch when he's waiting.





	People Watching

There was a lay ease to the city in summer, Prompto had found. The way the light caught on the tallest buildings after noon, funneled down through the streets to the bright splash of the fountains and the polished faces of the statues. The light breeze hurried along by the traffic, healthy summer trees along the narrow pedestrian avenues spreading their shade from wall to shining wall of the buildings no one seemed to want to hide in now.

He could sit and watch the people for hours in the shadow of the Citadel. Perched on the fountain in the Kingsglaive’s plaza, with a cup of ice cream quickly melting in his hands and his trusty camera at his side. King’s Knight pinged along happily in his lap, abandoned in intervals to catch snapshots of whatever and whoever caught his eye as he looked up. 

There were tourists along the main avenues leading up to the Citadel itself— the buses parked nearby as groups of people from across the city, across Lucis, and Eos descended on the wide sidewalks with the harried-but-cheerful guides— standing the the shadows of the great buildings of Lucis to snap their memories into phones and little disposable cameras. Prompto smirked to himself as he watched them focus on the seat of Lucian power, huddling a group together in the shadow of awning that extended over the sidewalk from a storefront. If he listened closely, he was certain he could hear the guide calling to collect his herd, to lead them to the statue of the Founder first as they tried in vain to navigate the perilous traffic of the avenue. 

He caught a few pictures of them himself— of the longing glances at the Citadel, the shops, the advertisements— while he waited in his little plaza of prestige. The Glaives and military administration milling about him as they came and went and were oblivious to his camera catching their shadows stretching across the decorated stones in the afternoon sun. 

Galahdians smiled to him; a familiar wolfish grin from one came with a little wave as Nyx lost step with his comrades. The men and women of Cavaugh eyed him up in assessment before they dismissed him and his little cup of melting ice cream. Lucians ignored him as they ignored everyone else, intent on their daily tasks and plans and orders that brought them through the busy streets. 

A tour group approached the building in awe of the passing uniforms and guards. 

Prompto listened to the same speech about the inclusion of the refugees in the Kingsglaive, the honours of the position and role and power. He listened to the promises made that the Glaive was opened to anyone with the right talent and constitution, capable of surviving the fury of the King’s magic. 

“Hey, you waiting long?”

“Nope! Just on time, big guy.”

Gladio had emerged from one of the crowds near the front doors, his own imposing shadow a familiar comfort; “Don’t give me that, pipsqueak. Paperwork ran long. Did you have lunch?”

Normally Prompto would spot Gladio first. He would see the way the Shield towered over most people, an apologetic smile in place as he moved through the crowd with the same finesse as navigating the training yards and obstacle courses at the Crownsguard headquarters. He would normally have a few moments to admire the way Gladio slipped through the groups, careful and precise and gentle despite the bulk of his appearance. Despite the scar that crossed his face and his uniform. 

Prompto would blame the plain clothes Gladio was wearing for not seeing him the crowd this time— no Lucian black uniform to make him stand out. 

They had planned to meet an hour ago, to grab a sandwich or “something light” from the favoured bistro nearby before they started on the meat of their date. There was a gallery Prompto wanted to see and Gladio could get them in. There were shows on that they both wanted to watch without Noctis dozing between them. 

There were things that they were still just feeling out and fidgeting over. While Prompto’s stomach still twisted itself in knots at the promise of attention. He held up the useless cup of former ice cream with a smile; “This count?”

Gladio rolled his eyes and stooped to plant a quick kiss in greeting on Prompto’s lips. “Not a chance. I’ll treat you to some real food.”

“Only if I can get your picture.”

“You bet. Let’s get you out of this sun before you burn.”


End file.
